


pencils falling from trees

by marzipain



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:14:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24078073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marzipain/pseuds/marzipain
Summary: “...Grantaire?”“‘Sup,” Grantaire does a finger gun with one hand, the other holding onto what looks to be a sketchbook.“Why are you sitting in a tree?” is the only thing Enjolras can think to say.
Relationships: Enjolras/Grantaire (Les Misérables)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 97
Collections: 2020 Same-Prompt Fic Challenge





	pencils falling from trees

“Ah, shit—” is all Enjolras hears before something small but hard knocks against his head and clatters to the ground.

He startles, hard, sending his book tumbling from his lap onto the ground and spilling his coffee. He may let out a squeak of terror. It’s a very mature squeak, he assures himself, if it even happened, which it probably didn’t.

“Sorry, dude, it totally slipped from my hand. I didn’t even realize anyone was down there--oh, hey Enjolras!” 

Grantaire is sitting in the tree that Enjolras had been reading his book under, smiling sheepishly. “...Grantaire?” 

“‘Sup,” Grantaire does a finger gun with one hand, the other holding onto what looks to be a sketchbook. 

“Why are you sitting in a tree?” is the only thing Enjolras can think to say. He has a lot of questions, actually, but none of them really have words attached to their sentiments. He’s still a little dazed.

Grantaire tilts his head. “Dunno. It’s fun? I was trying to get a different perspective, maybe hoping a new location would inspire me. This assignment is really kicking my ass.”

Enjolras nods. “I see.” He finally snaps back into full focus and realizes his coffee is spilling into the grass. His book is (thankfully) far enough away from the coffee that the only damage it has gotten is from the fall and the grass. A page is bent in an odd way, but the book was kind of worn down anyway, so it’s alright. Enjolras spies a pencil a foot or so away from the book, and picks it up. “Is this what hit me in the head?”

Grantaire laughs apologetically. “Ah, yeah. Sorry again, and sorry about your coffee.”

Enjolras shrugs. “It’s alright.” 

“I...let me buy you a new one?” Grantaire says, still looking a bit embarrassed. His face is a little red, and Enjolras sympathizes. He would not want to be in Grantaire’s position right now. Socially _or_ physically. Enjolras is not a fan of heights.

“The only places nearby are Starbucks,” Enjolras says regretfully. “I might get another on the way home, though--there’s a good place on the way back to my apartment. But that’s way out of your way, so—”

“I don’t mind,” Grantaire says, interrupting him. “I’m the one who spilled your coffee. Also, I could really use some myself. So, if you want to go…?”

“Oh,” Enjolras says. “Okay.”

Grantaire grins. “Cool,” he says, stuffing his sketchbook into his backpack, and then he’s swinging down the branches with a practiced grace, and Enjolras’ mouth feels a little dry. “Right now okay?” he says, feet touching the ground next to Enjolras. 

“Sure,” Enjolras says. He’s really wonderful with words today.

Grantaire scoops his pencil up from the ground and offers Enjolras a hand up. Enjolras takes it and stands, brushing himself off a little subconsciously. He picks up the coffee cup ( _rest in peace, white chocolate mocha_ , he thinks mournfully) and wipes it off with a tissue, putting the lid back on and sticking it in his bag. Grantaire watches the whole process with a bemused expression. “There’s a trash can right there,” he says helpfully.

Enjolras shakes his head. “I always compost them, and the compost bins are in the Student Union. I usually just take them home.”

Grantaire shrugs. “Fair enough.”

“So, tree climbing? I didn’t know you could do that,” Enjolras says, and Grantaire laughs. 

“I really liked it as a kid, and I guess I never forgot how?” Grantaire says sheepishly. “I hadn’t done it in a while, but the trees on campus are really excellent for it.”

Enjolras nods, looking around the area they’re in. Their college does have a very nice campus, greenery and trees abound. There’s a reason he likes to study outside.

“What’s the assignment?” Enjolras asks. 

Grantaire blinks at him for a moment before understanding flashes across his face. “Oh, some character design stuff. I’ve got the concept of a concept, but nothing too concrete yet.”

“I see,” Enjolras says. 

A person on a bicycle whooshes past them suddenly, and they both jump. Grantaire clutches his chest dramatically. “I just about had a heart attack, right there!” The bicyclist rides on, clearly in a hurry to get somewhere. Enjolras hopes they aren’t late.

“Not as bad getting knocked on the head by a random object when all you’re doing is peacefully reading.”

“I said I was sorry!” Grantaire puts his hands up defensively. 

“And I told you, it’s perfectly alright. I just think it’s funny,” Enjolras says, grinning at him. 

Grantaire grins back, though his face is a little flushed again. “I mean, it was pretty funny, the way you reacted. I swear you jumped about half a foot into the air.”

“It was a reasonable response!”

“Not saying it wasn’t! But it was hilarious.”

They’re both laughing now, their pace slightly impeded by the way they’re shaking with it. “Just don’t make a habit of dropping things on the heads of unsuspecting bystanders, yeah?” Enjolras finally gets out. 

Grantaire cringes, face still bright with mirth. “God, yeah. Imagine if it were some random person, and I just...dropped something on their head.”

Enjolras cringes at the mental image. “I’m glad it was just me,” he says. They’re on a main street now. “Ah, turn here,” he says. He’s glad the place is on his way home, because otherwise he’d probably have to pull out a GPS to find it. Enjolras is good at a lot of things, but finding his way around is not one of them. “It shouldn’t be too far now.”

They walk for another few blocks to the coffee place. “Oh, I know this place,” Grantaire says, pleasant surprise in his tone. “Their croissants are to die for.”

“Absolutely,” Enjolras agrees, pulling open the door and gesturing for Grantaire to go through it. 

“Such a gentleman,” Grantaire jokes, and Enjolras’ face warms a bit.

They order, Grantaire pays, and they sit down with their croissants to wait for their drinks. “Hey, did you hear about Marius’ latest adventure?” Grantaire says suddenly.

“No…?” Enjolras says, a little concerned. “Is everything okay?”

Grantaire scoffs. “He’s Marius, he always ends up okay. Always getting himself into the weirdest shit yet escaping in perfect health. I’ve stopped worrying.”

Enjolras laughs. “I suppose that’s true. So, what has he gotten himself into this time?”

Grantaire grins, and launches into a story of a chain of events that really only could have happened to poor Marius. The tale doesn’t end when their orders are called, and then it evolves into them recalling the other adventures of their friends.

An undetermined amount of time later, with their coffee depleted and only crumbs remaining of their croissants, Grantaire looks at his phone and curses. “Shit, I have to get to work soon or I’ll be late. Sorry to cut this short, but you know how it is,” he says apologetically, and Enjolras nods. “It was good, though. We’ve never really done this kind of thing, but it was good.”

“It was,” Enjolras responds, smiling. “We should do it again some time.”

“Yeah?” Grantaire says.

“Yeah.”

Grantaire grins. “I’ll see you around, Enjolras. Tell Combeferre and Courfeyrac hi for me.”

“Will do,” Enjolras says, and then with a salute, Grantaire is off. There’s a warm feeling in Enjolras’ chest.

It’s not anything conclusive, but it’s a turning point, a change. The beginning of something, perhaps. Enjolras returns to his apartment with the image of Grantaire’s wide grin etched into his mind, and the warm feeling stays with him for the rest of the day. He pulls out his phone.

3:47PM  
To: Grantaire  
_Next time, I’m paying. What are your thoughts on gelato?_

**Author's Note:**

> If you have any thoughts on this at all, I’d love to hear them! This is my first fic ever, so any feedback is welcomed and appreciated :)
> 
> You can find me at [almondmisery](https://almondmisery.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr, or leave a comment below. Thank you for reading!


End file.
